2 Impact
by pjstillnoon
Summary: Lightman plays his games again but has he taken it too far this time? While Gillian is left in his wake, she knows exactly how far she would go for him. It's amazing how their roles have reversed. They're both reflected in a different light.
1. Chapter 1

**Teaser**

Gillian giggles. She sips her red wine and watches Cal over the rim of her glass as he gives Emily a faked grin. It's late; the evening is black outside of Cal's kitchen windows. They're sitting at the island and the remnants of an eaten meal is evident by the dirty plates in front of them and the pile of pots in the sink.

"You can't actually believe half the drivel that comes out of your own mouth," Emily complains as she takes her plate to the sink. "Do you believe him?" She asks Gillian.

Gillian puts her glass down. "The thing with your Dad is that you have to let him believe he's right."

"Ow!" Cal complains instantly, pushing back his chair. He gets up. "At least half of what I say _is_ actually true whether you believe it or not."

Gillian gives him an amused grin as he takes his plate to the sink. Emily is stacking the dishes to one side so she can fill the sink. Cal flicks water at her. "Hey!" Emily complains loudly. "You can't end a debate by throwing things like a child."

"Can too," Cal pouts at her.

Suddenly the entire house shakes and a low rumble rolls towards them. The hanging lights sway, glasses rattle in the cupboards, a pot lid slides loose and clatters to the floor. The shaking gets more violent. Cal wraps an arm around his daughter's waist and just about throws her into the kitchen doorway while the house quivers around them. Gillian is two seconds behind them and bumps into Cal heavily as she comes to a standstill.

"Dad!" Emily sounds panicked. "What's happening?" She's standing behind Cal. With the three of them in the same doorway it's rather cramped.

"Must be an earthquake," Cal calls back while he stares down at Gillian. She's clinging on to him tightly, her blue eyes peering up at him intently. "Right?"

_Day. Street. Snow. _

Gillian is wrapped up snugly as she walks along the street in her favourite red woollen coat. She has a blue scarf wrapped around her neck and her breath mists as she strolls. Her hands are in black leather gloves, a tray with two coffees carried in her right. There is snow all over everything, casting the world in purity and suspended time. Her cheeks are slightly reddened, as is the tip of her nose and as she clips up the path leading to the office building she breaks into a smile. Cal is approaching from the opposite direction and he comes to a stop just outside the door to wait for her. "Good morning," he greets pleasantly.

"Morning," Gillian's smile widens.

"Fancy seeing you here," he holds the door open for her.

Gillian steps through and then turns to offer him one of the coffees. Cal gives her a suspicious expression. "What is it?"

"It's coffee," Gillian answers using her spare hand to unwrap her scarf.

"Yeah but one of them foamy caramel double shot mocca-ry things that has more sugar than coffee in it?"

"No Cal," Gillian starts to walk away. "It's just coffee." She turns back as she walks away. "Don't you believe me?" Cal smirks at her back and follows.

They push on the doors to the Lightman Group. Gillian starts pulling her gloves off. "I didn't feel one aftershock," Cal announced.

"Maybe you slept through them."

"I didn't sleep much last night," Cal admits as they walk towards the reception desk.

"Oh yeah?" Gillian arches an eyebrow.

"Em, she got all worried about a second quake."

"Right," Gillian responds as if she doesn't believe him at all.

Cal widens his eyes. "It's true."

"Did you hear about the meteor?" Anna asks as she hands Gillian a stack of mail.

"Meteor?" Gillian queries.

"It's on the news," Anna points to the TV just next to her on the wall.

There's a female anchor talking about the size of the meteor that struck last night and its relative location. There's also a very vague photo sitting on the anchor's left shoulder.  
>"Turn it up," Cal requests.<p>

"That was no meteor," a male voice behind them calls out.

Cal turns quickly to see the speaker. Gillian is slower in moving but she sees a well groomed man wearing the dark blue winter uniform of a naval officer. Cal walks up to him. "What was it then?"

"It wasn't a meteor and it wasn't an earthquake."

Cal looks over his shoulder at Gillian and then back to the visitor. "What was it, and what's it got to do with you being here right now in my office?"

"It's a crashed UFO."

**Opening Credits**


	2. Chapter 2

**Act One**

"State your name for the record."

The Naval officer looks at Cal in confusion for a moment. He sits with his cover on his knee, his back straight, his dark hair is cut short in the favoured military style. On his sleeves are the golden hoops that denote his rank and on his chest are the medals celebrating his service.

"I've always wanted to say that," Cal gives him a grin. Beside him at the table, Gillian shifts slightly. They're in one of the interrogation rooms. The door is closed for privacy but there is no one on the other side of the glass analysing footage. Loker is standing there anyway, a pencil pressed to his lips, listening.

Inside the interrogation room the naval officer shifts slightly in his seat while Cal watches on impassively. "Lieutenant Commander Randall Edison."

"Oop, now that's not true," Cal points a finger at him and circles it. "Try again."

"What do you need my name for sir?"

"Tell me your hair colour then," Cal suggests.

"You can see my hair colour sir."

Cal looks at Gillian.

"For Doctor Lightman to believe what you have to say about the UFO crash, he has to be able to establish a baseline," Gillian explains calmly. "In other words, he needs to see you when you tell the truth and when you lie so he can make a comparison."

"Go on then," Cal prompts. "Tell me you're a blonde."

"I have blonde hair," the Commander responds in a dry tone.

Cal gives Gillian a raised eyebrow. "I wonder if the curtains match the carpet."

"Cal!" Gillian gives him a sharp but quiet reprimand.

"Nah all right," Cal lounges on the table top. "What's your rank?"

Edison looks at Gillian. She gives a slight nod. "I'm a Lieutenant Commander."

"Yes you are," Cal gives a nod of confirmation. "I can tell by the hoops." He studied the officer's medal rack. "You served in Iraq?"

The navy man shifts in his seat and his chest puffs out a little in pride. "Yes sir."

"I was in Bosnia."

"My father served in Bosnia."

"Aw now that's nice," Cal almost coos. "Let me guess, third generation navy man?"

"Yes sir," more pride.

"Tell me bout this UFO then," Cal slouches back in his chair as he waves a hand in dismissal. Gillian has been taking notes and even she pauses to look up and wait for the Commander to answer.

"The site they're reporting on the news, I drive by there every day on my way to Norfolk," he leans forward earnestly on the table top. "There's no meteor crater."

"Sure there is," Cal interrupts. "There's a giant bloody hole in the ground in the middle of Mason Neck Park."

The Commander shakes his head. "No. That's not a meteor crash. It's just a front."

"A front for an unidentified flying object?" Gillian cuts in.

"Exactly," Edison nods.

"You saw it?" She asks next.

"No, but, I know a meteor hole when I see one."

"Expert are we?"

"Well read."

"What department are you with?" Gillian asks. His uniform bears no marks to indicate, no symbol for doctor, lawyer or clerical.

_Lightman's office. Day._

"If his story is true, then there's definitely a cover up of some sorts going on. I thought that kind of thing would be right up your alley," Gillian expounds as they walk towards his desk.

Cal throws himself back in his chair and looks up at her. "I can't believe you bought his UFO crap. He has no idea what crashed in that field."

"Yes but what he is sure about is the false time, the false location, the falsified documentation..."

"Oh come on," Cal interrupts. "You believe in little green men don't you? You're a Mulder type! I never would have picked that!"

Gillian gives him a little huff and sticks out her hip to rest her hand on. "Governmental cover ups? Why aren't you jumping all over this?"

Cal stares up at her. He gets up suddenly. "All right darling. We can go check out the alleged encounter site. So long as you don't harp on about crop circles in the car."

"You know," Gillian notes conversationally as she follows him back across his office. "Not all crop circles are physically or geometrically possible. Some of them can't..."

"I said no crop circles!" Cal complains loudly as he exits his office doorway.

"We're not in the car yet," Gillian points out.

_Lightman's car. Mason Neck Point State Park. _

"You promised no talk about aliens," Cal complains.

"No, what I promised was to not talk about crop circles," Gillian counters happily from the passenger seat. "It's arrogant to think that in the vastness of the universe that we could be the only intelligent life."

"And I'm not denying that," Cal argues back. "I just think if we can't fly ourselves further than the moon, what makes you think any other being out there is smart enough to do the same?"

Gillian is saved from having to answer as they pull past a media circus and yellow tape hanging between pine trees and drifts of dirtied snow. "Who knew a meteor was such big news," Gillian notes softly as they quietly slide by.

"Maybe they're there to try and interview the crash victim," Cal answers snidely as he takes the car further around. Gillian turns her head to stare at him and he steadfastly ignores her. They splash through muddy slush puddles until a little clearing on the side opens up on the right and Cal pulls into it.

"I didn't wear the right shoes for this," Gillian notes as she steps out into ankle deep snow. She wraps her scarf quickly around her neck as Cal stomps around to her side of the car. It's still and quiet and just a little bit eerie. "We're not on private property are we?" Gillian is worried.

"Does it matter if we are?"

"I guess not," Gillian supposes pulling her gloves on. "We're not going to do anything but have a look."

"Shall we?" Cal suggests starting to move is way around her.

"Sure," Gillian agrees.

"But no poaching or loading up the car with illegal firewood all right?" Cal shoots over his shoulder as he takes off. They pick their way through the snow to the edge of the trees, the disturbance of their footprints only visible to those who would take the time to look. Their journey would remain until the next blanket of snow came along to reset the world again, in the chance that the first round would be forgotten by an even better sequel. No one else could mess with the path they have made without drawing far more attention to it; not even the two of them could go back and make changes without making a bigger mess. All they could do now was just keep going, keep on moving forward. Cal strides easily up the slight incline, his hands shoved deep within his pockets.

Gillian is several meters behind and breathing heavily as she catches up. In the meantime, Cal surveys the scene around him, bouncing slightly on the spot. There are severe wet patches on his jeans half way up his calves. Across the way he can see the yellow tape again. He looks over his shoulder to see Gillian, arms outstretched for balance, placing her feet carefully in his footsteps. Behind her he can see the exact point where their paths have converged into one. Gillian looks up at him and gives a wan smile. "Not as fit as I used to be," she notes wryly, as she goes back to focussing on breathing and the length of Cal's gait. "With my reduced lung capacity," she adds taking another purposeful step. Cal continues to watch her sadly for a moment. She's wearing her favourite red coat and her cheeks are pink, along with the tip of her nose. Her hair is pulled back into a short ponytail. The combination of the stark white snow and bright red of her coat make her eyes seem bluer. Cal realises he's staring too hard.

As she gets closer he steps back and offers her his hand. The incline is not so steep that she runs the risk of falling, nor does she need his extra strength to get lost last few feet. But she reaches out for him anyway and he pulls her gently to stand next to him. "Well that is definitely not a meteor crash site," Cal notes as he surveys the scene in front of him again.

Gillian comes up beside him. Her breath harsher in the still air. "No it's not," she agrees, her eyes slightly widened in surprise.

"That's no crash site for anything," Cal turns to her. Gillian swallows before she starts to suck air heavily again and gives a nod.

_Lightman Group. Day. Lab._

Cal, Gillian and Loker stand in the lab staring up at the large screen. They show different expressions. Loker is frowning. Cal is bored. Gillian looks interested.

"I mean, it could be a meteor site," Loker notes.

"Maybe if you squint a little," Cal answers immediately, his expression not changing.

"Anything small enough to make such a shallow impression would have burnt up entering the atmosphere," Gillian notes. Cal turns to his left to look at her. She gives him a slight shrug. "I'm not allowed to know about meteors?"

"That was no bloody meteor," Cal responds. "I could have gone into my back yard and dug a hole like that."

"Maybe not with the same diameter," Loker muses.

Cal turns to his right give him a glare. Loker moves off to his desk, but not before glancing down at their matching pair of sodden trousers. Cal and Gillian go back to staring up at the image. What is displayed is a low dip in a clearing of trees. All around his covered in the whiteness of frozen water, aside from an area in the bottom of the dip roughly the square footage of a modest home. The black earth is exposed, peeled back, but not in any neat order. There's no evidence of a crater or specific point of impact. In fact, it looks like the earth has merely been thrown around haphazardly.

"If someone dug it on purpose," Loker speaks again. "Where are the tractor tracks?"

"If I was digging out my yard, you think I would get a bulldozer in there? Or used a spade?" Cal shoots at Loker.

"So someone found a clearing, took their spade, and dug out a shallow hole to make it look like a meteor has crashed?" Loker surmises.

"They did a bad job of making it look like a meteor crash."

"Don't you dare suggest to me a craft of any sort crashed or landed there," Cal raises a finger to absently point at Gillian.

"What I was going to say," Gillian sounds unimpressed. "Is that I'm freezing and I'm going to change."

"All right," Cal is immediately softer.

"And we need to talk to the Lieutenant Commander again," Gillian adds. "But this time, we need to ask a very different set of questions."

_Cube_.

"All right I'm interested," Cal slams the cube door closed and pulls out his chair. In the seat opposite, Edison straightens his shoulders back.

"Did you go out to the site sir?"

"I did," Cal confirms as he slouches down. The glass walls of the Cube are fogged out but that doesn't seem to bother the Commander. Gillian and Loker sit at the computer station outside and watch the feed. "That's no UFO crash site. In fact, that's not a crash site for anything," Cal whips a photo out of the folder in his hands and skims it over the desk to the navy man so he can see. A brief surprise expression crosses his features. "And by the way. Why aren't you at work?"

The navy man shifts in his seat again while Cal watches him intently. "You gone AWOL?" Cal asks as though the man is a delicate flower.

Lieutenant Commander Randall Edison looks up at Cal, square in the eyes. In an even tone of voice he asks: "Have you ever heard of weather control Doctor Lightman?"


	3. Chapter 3

**Act Two**

"Is that anything like mind control?" Cal quips, clearly disbelieving.

"No," the Commander leans into Cal as if he is imparting a secret. "It's less complicated than that. Military institutes around the world have been working for years on the technology to trigger storms and even earthquakes in strategic positions. The Boxing Day tsunami?" Edison raises his eyebrows, he knows the answer to his own question. "Was intentional."

Cal keeps his face neutral. "So it was an earthquake last night?"

The Commander leans forward onto the desk. Outside the Cube Gillian focuses in on his face; she's hunched in on herself, still unable to get warm enough. Loker writes notes next to her on a clipboard. "Hard to take him seriously," he notes.

Gillian doesn't answer.

"It could have been," the Commander answers. "My point is, they're covering something up."

"Right," Cal is suddenly animated. He gets to his feet quickly and exits the Cube without another word. Gillian pushes back her chair to meet him around the side. "I don't like to be played," he tells her in a low voice. "He doesn't know what he's talking about. And he's spinning me a line."

"Yes, but aside from that are you not interested in why?"

"He's doing it so I will investigate for him. He's probably got some sort of agenda."

"Of course he's running an agenda," Gillian shook her head. "Look at the bigger picture Cal. Governmental conspiracies. Military secrets. Is that not something you would want to pursue? Whatever the actual outcome is? There's clearly something funny going on."

"Funny?" Cal asks her suddenly amused. "Is that the clinical term for it?"

"Yes," Gillian gives him her unimpressed expression.

"What do you want to do then?" Cal asks her, stepping in closer.

"Why don't we just ask a few questions?"

"I like asking questions."

"I know you do."

"I like it better when I get straight answers."

"So let's get some straight answers."

"Source?" He asks with raised eyebrows. He knows the answer to his own question.

Gillian nods.

_Lightman's office. Day._

Anna approaches Cal's desk. Her heels announce her arrival. "Doctor Lightman? Sorry to interrupt, but there's no record of a Lieutenant Commander Randall Edison in the United States Navy."

Cal raises his eyebrow at her in interest. And to tell her to go on.

"Nor is he listed in any of the other services. So I checked the local listings. There are no Randall Edison's in Maryland, Virginia or DC. There is a Randall Edison in Washington State."

Cal waves his hand to indicate that he doesn't care.

"Uh," Anna gives him the slip of paper with the number anyway. "Also I got you clearance at Norfolk. They're expecting you in a few hours."

At this, Cal gets to his feet abruptly. "Doctor Foster still in?"

"Yes, she's in her office on the phone."

"Perfect darling," Cal tells her and she turns to leave again. He gathers his phone and car keys and grabs his coat from a side table as he stalks through his study and across the corridor.

Gillian is hanging up her phone as Cal enters. She gives him an expectant expression.

"Good lord," Cal loosens his shirt around his collar.

"What?" Gillian looks self-conscious. "It's cold."

"Fancy a road trip?"

"To where?" She asks without moving.

"Turns out your Commander Edison is a crock."

Gillian leans back in her chair. "What does that mean?"

"It means he was a fake."

"He wasn't in the Navy?" Gillian clarifies.

"Well there's no record of his existence. You got his number? I think we should get him back in here so Torres and Loker can talk to him."

"I don't have his number," Gillian informs him. "It will be on the file."

Cal gives her a 'let's go gesture'. "Road trip. Get your coat. Got an appointment with some lackey down at Norfolk."

"Oh? What kind of lackey?"

"I'm sure they'll find us someone terribly boring to talk to." Cal watches her for a moment. "I'll let you turn the heat up in the car."

Gillian gives a slight smile and gets up.

_Norfolk Naval Base. Day._

Cal sits in his vehicle and waits while a Marine at the gate checks his and Gillian's ID's against a clip board. Every so often the radio on his shoulder squarks out static. Gillian waits patiently but Cal taps his fingers on the steering wheel in a rapid fire tattoo while he stares up at the Corporal. He's tall and an imposing figure and he spends most of his time 'checking' their ID's actually staring at Cal. After another minute he gives a sharp sigh, more like a grunt, and hands their ID's back. He slaps a 'visitor' sticker to the front of Cal's windshield. "Go through the gate and take the first right. Park in the first lot. Go straight to building A. They'll expect you there."

"That's going to come off right?" Cal indicates the sticker.

The Marine steps back and the gate opens in front of them. Cal hands Gillian her ID back and she puts it in her purse. Cal puts the car into drive and they roll slowly across the base. A group of sailors jog past them in their PT gear. Desert tan humvees drive across their path, as if there is no system of acknowledging a right of way. Cal turns the car onto a quieter stretch of internal road and then left into the first parking lot he comes across.

They get out and go inside a building nearby, guessing that it is the correct one. There is no indication that it isn't. An Ensign is waiting for them in a blue and grey camouflage uniform. He steps forward as they come through the door. "Doctor Lightman? Doctor Foster?"

"Yeah," Cal answers absently as he clips his visitor ID to his jacket lapel. Gillian steps forward with a smile and shakes the young man's hand.

"I'm Ensign Drake. If you'll come with me we can go somewhere more comfortable to talk."

"I'd murder a cup of coffee," Cal starts by speaking. He doesn't make a move to follow the Ensign anywhere.

"Uh sure," Drake looks anything but. "Let me..." He hesitates. "I can make you a cup of coffee."

"Smashing," Cal responds. "We'll show ourselves around." And he takes Gillian by the elbow and quickly marches her down the hallway before she or Drake can object. They round a corner and Cal starts sticking his head into various rooms.

"What are you doing?" Gillian asks him.

"Oh sorry, are you all right?"

"I'm fine," Gillian answers him annoyed. "Stop worrying about me."

"I was just checking. All that exertion earlier this morning. You're meant to be on light duties..." Cal continues to wander down the corridor. The building has a hush to it and as another Marine rounds the corner Cal stands by idly as if he is up to absolutely nothing.

Gillian gives him a frown. "Light duties doesn't mean you have to check up on me every time you decide to out run your babysitter. A quick walk down the corridor isn't going to kill me. Why exactly did we out run the baby sitter?"

"Bored," Cal responds. He turns to her abruptly. "With him. Not with you." He steps close to her. "Never with you."

Gillian unravels her scarf. "What are you looking for exactly?"

"Just being nosey."

"Hoping to stumble across something interesting?"

"Building A? Must be public relations downstairs, which makes me think perhaps the head honcho is upstairs." Cal turns another corner and casually strolls along. This one has more foot traffic than the last and so he moves as if he is absolutely meant to be there. Gillian follows along half a pace behind. "You realise the really juicy stuff will be stored away in another building? Right? They're not going to keep anything here that a certain Doctor Lightman can happen across."

Cal stops abruptly and Gillian almost crashes into him. "You're saying we should skip out completely and sneak into another building? Doctor Foster, I like the way you think." He gives her a grin. "Here," he hands her his car keys.

"What are you giving me these for?"

"In case we get separated," he takes off again.

"No!" Gillian hisses at him. "Cal that's not what I meant." She hurries after him. A Marine Captain looks up at them from his folder as they move along the corridor. Gillian catches up to Cal as he turns another corner.

Ensign Drake is standing in the middle a few meters away, two cups of coffee in his hand and his clipboard tucked under his right arm. He spots them and looks relieved and approaches immediately. "If you'll follow me I can take you to a private room where we can discuss the meteor crash last night."

"Funny cos I heard it was a UFO cover up," Cal starts.

The Ensign gives him a worried expression. "Where did you hear that?"

"Oop," Cal turns to look at Gillian as they walk along behind. "You see that?"

"I _heard_ that," Gillian corrects.

The Ensign arrives at an empty room. There is a table in the middle and a set of four chairs that, after five hours of interrogation, would be extremely uncomfortable. There is nothing on the pale orange painted walls. The window shows that it is starting to snow again. They take seats and the ensign puts their hot drinks down on the table. Cal scoots his across the table and takes an immediate sip. Gillian notes how he gives a slight shudder and decides she'll use hers to keep her fingers warm. Since she had surgery, she feels the cold so much more. Especially in her back.

The Ensign starts in on a practiced speech about the crash site, how the Navy was called in to help recover any particles for research. He hands them each a press release and then asks if there was anything else he could help them with. "Yeah," Cal speaks up. "I need to pee."

The Ensign looks unsure for a second.

"I don't need you to hold my hand, just point out the little boys' room," Cal expands.

"Oh uh, take a left then two rights," Drake gestures.

Cal leaps up from his chair. "Coffee went right through me," he muses to himself as he passes by Gillian. She gives the Ensign an unsure smile.

_Norfolk Naval Base. Building A. Corridor._

Cal strolls along until he reaches a door with the typical symbol of a man, indicating that this is where the men's toilets are. He keeps on walking casually.

_Norfolk Naval base. Interview Room. Day._

"You see. We went out to the alleged site and there's nothing there," Gillian explains. "Mason Neck Point is a long way from here. Why is the Navy even involved?"

The Ensign studies her for a moment. "All I know is in the report."

"Now I know that's not true," Gillian tells him gently. "In fact, I think you know something directly about this."

The Ensign looks nervous. He looks to the door.

"So why don't you tell me so I can be on my way."

"What you're talking about his classified, that's all I know," the Ensign shoots at her. "I could get in trouble for telling you just that amount. What do you need to know for anyway?"

"A personal friend came forward with information," Gillian lies easily. "He was former Navy. He indicated that this kind of thing has happened before." She gives the slightest hesitation, the only indication she is lying but not something the untrained would pick up on. Cal would and he would also take her line of questioning, or bullshitting, and run with it. The Ensign looks even more uncomfortable. "I don't know exactly what happened before but I know there is something you're hiding. Something you know about, but are choosing not to tell me Ensign Drake. Don't you?" She continues relentlessly, speaking softly, but holding his eye firmly. "You're wearing that uniform for a reason. You're meant to serve and protect American citizens. Isn't that why you signed up?"

_Norfolk Naval Base. Stairwell._

Cal pushes on a door and enters another level of the building. As the door swings shut a big 'seven' is visible painted on the side. Cal steps into a corridor with a completely different colour scheme. What was warm oranges and pinks downstairs is replaced by a more severe dark blue, making the corridor seem dark and foreboding. Cal makes his way quickly down one side of the corridor, looking at the names on the doors as he goes. At the end he stops and does a double take. He has found a door he likes the look of. He listens outside it for a moment, his hand resting lightly on the handle. After a moment, he turns it and pushes the door open.

_Norfolk Naval Base. Interview Room._

Gillian gives the Ensign a reassuring expression. "I felt that tremor. All I'm asking for, all I want, is an explanation as to what it was. The Geological Survey aren't reporting any activity in the area at all. But I know what I felt."

All of a sudden they are interrupted by yelling. A Marine runs past their open door. Both Drake and Gillian turn to look at the door. A sailor runs past this time. "I wonder what that's about," the Ensign gets up from the table. Gillian looks to the window, a sense of dread in her stomach. She sees Cal being manhandled down the path by three camouflage wearing Marines.

"Should have known," she mutters to herself. She rushes out of the room. By the time she gets outside Cal is being carried along the path towards a soft top humvee. He's kicking and squirming and complaining loudly that they don't have any authority in which to man handle him the way they are. As Gillian gets closer she can see his nose is cut and bleeding down the front of his shirt. The marines drop him at the humvee and one doesn't hesitate to land a fist into his stomach. Cal crumbles immediately and Gillian hurries down the long path faster. Except, since she had surgery she found it so much harder to breathe and without oxygen she can't force her legs to move any faster.

Military police slide out of the humvees open seats and they, along with the help of the Marines, lift Cal and throw him into the back quickly.

"Hey!" Gillian calls out, only winding herself further. The police climb back in and drive away before she can even reach them. When Gillian catches up to the Marines they are straightening their uniforms and heading back inside. "Where are you taking him?"

"Doctor Lightman was caught in a secured section of the building. He has been taken for debriefing."

"For how long?" Gillian has to quicken her pace significantly to keep up with the fit men. They don't answer her and she asks again.

"As long as it takes," one of the Sergeants answers her as he finally starts to pull away.

As Gillian turns, another Sergeant is waiting for her. "We suggest you leave immediately."


	4. Chapter 4

**Act Three**

Gillian sits in Cal's car at the side of the road. She checks her phone and then the time and then her phone again. She looks out of the window at the cold landscape. The sun is starting a slow set in the west and she is clearly fretting. Finally, it seems she comes to a decision as she pulls her belt across her chest and turns the ignition over.

_Palms Motel. Smithfield. Night._

Gillian unlocks the door to room number forty-two. She hits the lights and pushes the door closed behind her. She rests against it for a while, still thinking about what she's going to do. She puts her purse down on the formica table top and brings her phone up to see the screen. She scrolls through for a phone number.

"Loker it's me. I need you to..." she hesitates. What does she need? "Cal's been detained at the Naval Base and I need you to find out how long he's going to be kept for."

"Oh!" Loker sounds surprised. "Yeah sure. I'm on it."

"Call me back straight away," she demands and hangs up. She goes back out to the car and picks up Cal's laptop from the trunk. She sets the computer up on the table and shivers into her coat. Should she consider it significant she feels colder when Cal is not around? That must be a coincidence. The laptop is from work and there is no password on it. Gillian swiftly accesses the hard drive and pulls up the case file marked 'Edison'. She opens it and scans through and in the space where a contact phone number should have been listed, the line is blank.

Gillian gives a sigh and reaches for her phone again. She calls Loker back. "Why is there no contact number for Edison?"

"Uh, I don't know," Loker sounds unsure. Gillian can hear him typing rapidly and a second later he gives another 'huh' of recognition. "I'll get Anna to try and track him down."

"Good. What about Cal?"

"Uh well I spoke to someone's assistant of someone or... I don't know. I got lost in all the different ranks. Basically they can keep him for twenty-fours without cause."

Gillian sighs at the ceiling. "Great."

"Where are you?"

"Smithfield in a motel. They beat him. I want to be here when he's let go."

"Uh ok," Loker says as if that is too much information.

"Find Edison for me and also," she takes a second to think. "I spoke to an Ensign that indicated this has happened before. I get the impression there were casualties. So I go back through geological surveys and cross reference them with media coverage. See if anything lines up or seems fantastical."

"Right. I'm on it."

Gillian hangs up and dials another number almost immediately. "Hi Emily," she smiles into the phone. "No I'm fine." She pauses. "Can you stay at a friend's place tonight?"

_Continued. Later that night._

Gillian wakes, startled by the ringing of her phone. "Yeah?" she answers as she checks the time. It's seven pm. She goes back to the computer as she listens. Something is flashing at the bottom right hand corner of the screen and so she clicks on it. "I've got it in front of me now."

"Ok, what you're looking at," Loker speaks in her ear. "Are a series of anomalies between media reports and incidences of seismic activity." He explained how each large shake of the earth that was not created by the shift of tectonic plates was followed almost immediately by a 'wow' story; a new species of jelly fish is discovered; a child prodigy in China plays Mozart at three years old; quadruplets are born, three of them white, one of them black.

"And of course, a meteor crash."

"Right," Gillian agrees, going through the information quickly while she listens to Loker's cliff notes. "So there's definitely a pattern here?"

"There is if you're looking for it."

"This is all of it?"

"All that I could find so far."

"Thank you."

"Uh, have you heard from Cal?"

"No."

"Do you get a phone call if you're held in a brig?"

"Why don't you find out for me?" Gillian says sharply and then hangs up.

_Lightman Group. Night. Lab._

"How did she sound?" Ria asks as she comes into the lab with two cups of coffee.

"Stressed out."

"What do you think Lightman did to get himself detained?"

Loker takes his drink from her and sips it before putting it down on his desk next to his computer keyboard. The screen shows a rapid scan of newspaper clippings, searching out key words. "It's Lightman. Who knows?"

"Good point," Ria goes to her work station. She's going over footage of Edison. "How did this guy slip through the cracks?"

"Trained liar?" Loker shoots back. "Now here's something interesting..."

_A cell. Night. _

Cal shifts himself into a sitting position. There is blood all down the front of his shirt and over his chin. He's not cuffed but he is stiff from the cooling of his muscles and the wearing off of adrenaline. His shoes are missing and he pats himself down to find that he doesn't have his phone either. He checks his wrists. His watch is gone. He stands on the edge of the bench to try and look out of the small square of window at the top of the room. All he can see is that it is dark. He sits down again on the hard bench and sighs.

_Palm Motel. Night._

"Thirteen civilians died in that accident and you explain the giant crater away as a collapsed parking building."

"Ms Foster, Mr Lightman will be held in custody until we determine that he is no longer a security risk to the United States Navy, the US Government or himself," the male voice tells her. "If we suspect he is a risk, he will be detained until the matter can be resolved." The phone line suddenly goes dead.

"That could be a long time," Gillian tells the room in frustration and throws her phone to the bed. Her coat is now on the back of a chair, her shoes under the table and she checks her watch again with another sigh. It's now ten thirteen pm. She paces the room, wringing her hands because they won't stop trembling. Her phone starts ringing and she just about pounces on it, almost relieved until she sees the number on the screen. It comes up as Loker's cell number. She ignores the call and goes back to pacing. Once the call ends she brings up her phone directory and scrolls just a few spaces down to one name:

Alec


	5. Chapter 5

**Act Four**

Gillian walks up to the bank teller. She looks tired but she is still tidy. She gives the woman behind the counter a letter. "All right what have we got here then?" She is pleasant but her face quickly falls. "Would you prefer to make the withdrawal in a private room?"

"Yes I would," Gillian gives her a smile in response and checks her watch again. She looks nervous now, unsure and glances over her shoulder as if she can just imagine someone is there watching her.

"Doctor Foster?" A manager approaches, clean shaved, dark hair, dark suit, not much taller than she is. "If you would come through this way," he opens his arm wide to indicate the direction. "We can accommodate you."

_Great Dismal Swamp National Wildlife Refuge. Day._

Gillian creeps Cal's car along a gravel road. She is amongst bare trees that are interspersed with evergreens. A sign on the right announces her location: Great Dismal Swamp. "Fitting," she mutters to herself. She checks the GPS on her phone and keeps moving forward. The snow here is thick but the road has been ploughed clear. A rabbit startles and its white ass flashes as it bounces away. On the seat next to Gillian is a black duffel bag. She continues to drive forward slowly, her gaze alternating between her phone and the path in front of her. Several hundred meters in she makes a turn onto a path that is sheltered from snow only by the thick branches overhead. It's like driving into a tunnel and Gillian's grip tightens on the steering wheel. A minute in she comes across a cabin. There is nothing around, no marks in the snow to indicate that she isn't the only one there. As she cuts the engine it becomes painfully obvious that she is so very much alone. There is no bird song, no sound of traffic, nothing but her heartbeat.

Gillian checks her phone again and notes there is no signal. She puts it on the passenger seat and picks up the bag, dragging it out of the car behind her as she steps into the deep snow. She shivers again and walks as quickly as she can through the pile of snow towards the cabin's door. As she gets closer she can see that it must have been abandoned for a while. One of the windows has been smashed in. Dead clumps of grass grow on the sill. The door handle is rusted and as Gillian pulls on it starts to hang at a dangerous angle. Gillian puts the bag down on top of her feet so it doesn't get wet and uses both hands to pull the door. It gives way with an angry protest, screaming out its anguish to the silent clearing. A bird startles from a nearby tree and Gillian watches it scamper away across the sky.

Inside the cabin it is musty, damp and covered in cobwebs. Gillian gives a little cough and then reaches a hand to her back and gives a wince. She still hurts. And it was worse when she was cold. She walks across wooden floorboards and notes there is no dust on the floor. She takes another look around and notes the tiny rodent footprint disturbed dust along the benches and table top. But for some reason the floor is not nearly half as dirty. There is a chair by the table and that too is devoid of grey and cobwebs. Gillian hears a scuttle in the corner and chooses to steadfastly ignore it. She puts the bag down on the table and turns to leave again.

Outside she pulls the collar of her red coat around as she tramps back through the snow. As she gets to Cal's car she has the distinct impression that someone or something is watching her and looks around the clearing. With a heavy heart she gets back in the vehicle and turns the engine over. She looks around a lot as she backs up, looking, wondering if someone really is there to watch her make the drop. She turns the heat up and takes note of the time. Then she pulls out of the clearing again and back onto the tracks she made before.

Gillian heads back to the motel. She kicks her wet shoes off and peels back her coat as she is all ready searching for a number in her phone. "Alec it's me. I made the drop." She listens for a moment. "Yeah I guess I do know now," she adds sadly as she checks her watch yet again. "I didn't tell you because I knew you wouldn't help me if you knew it was for Cal." She pauses again and her eyes get dangerous.

_A cell. Day._

The door bursts open and two men dressed in black combat gear with heavy boots swiftly move into the room. Cal was asleep on the bench and if he hadn't been rudely wakened by the door he would have been by the two men who grab him unceremoniously by the front of his shirt and arms and start to manhandle him upright. "Who are you lot?" Cal asks loudly, clearly panicked and tries to pull his arms free. The two men push him towards the door and Cal starts to resist harder. "Where are we going?" He tries to fight them away but they're clearly bigger and stronger and far more determined. They remain silent as Cal asks again where they're taking him and they force him out of the door roughly.

_Palm Motel. Day._

Gillian sits on the edge of the bed that is still made. She checks her phone. She sighs. She gets up again and crosses to the window. "For god's sake Cal," she huffs at the net curtain. She checks her phone, the battery is fine, the signal is strong. "Call me," she urges the window again. "Come on, call me." She goes to the laptop and sits and then gets up again. Finally she reaches the point of no return; her patience is frayed.

"Lucy it's Gillian. Is Alec there?" She listens, her blue eyes searching for something else that she's missing. "He's not? When will he be back?" She listens again and is suddenly a little more dejected, a little more defeated; this is moving quickly beyond her scope of experience. "Can you get him to call me please? It's urgent. He knows what it's about." She fights down the sudden surge of panic in her voice but it is so very obvious; _urgent_. She hangs up with another huff and fights back a sting of tears. This was not going at all how she thought it would. Her phone rings suddenly and she answers hurriedly.

"It's me," Loker identifies himself. "Nothing on Edison. We can't track him down anywhere. He's disappeared off the face of the earth."

Gillian's sense of foreboding gets deeper. There is a good chance he has been killed and buried somewhere never to be found again. She is starting to think that that was entirely plausible. Which meant Cal, wherever he was, could very well suffer the same fate. Her stomach sucker punches her and she sits heavily on the bed.

"You there?"

"Yes I'm here."

"How are things your end?"

"Fine," Gillian lies terribly. "I'm still waiting to hear." She checks her watch. "Two hours ago," she mutters to herself. "I'll call you when I hear from Cal," she speaks up again.

"All right," Loker agrees but sounds distinctly dubious.

Gillian hangs up. She puts her shoes back on and grabs the keys off the shitty formica table with its false print of grained wood. She heads out to Cal's car and climbs in.

_A private road. A black SUV. Day._

A naval Captain drives along quickly, the vehicle rocking severely over the rough road. He is in uniform, the golden hoops on his sleeve denoting his rank. His medal rack is full and long; he has served well. His hair, while thick, is greying severely around the edges; he's older than he should be. He checks his watch. And then flinches suddenly. His hand goes to the side of his neck in an annoyed swipe. As his hand descends again a small bee is thrown to the passenger seat where it convulses, legs kicking the air and slowly dies. The Captain carries on but slowly his determined expression is replaced with slowly seeping surprise.

His face gets redder and he starts to clear his throat uncomfortably. It doesn't take him long to start to choke. He loosens his tie and its panic that is in his fingers making the movement difficult. The vehicle starts to swerve violently. It skids as the brakes are suddenly clamped down and spins in the sludge before wrapping around a sturdy tree. A large drift of snow falls onto the windscreen in a smothering white out.

_Palm Motel. Afternoon._

Gillian paces the room again. She rubs her head and shifts her phone back and forth, willing it to ring with news from someone that was not Loker. She takes a sudden sharp breath as if she is in pain and crosses to her purse. She puts her phone down on the table top to search with two hands and finds a tell-tale little brown plastic container with a white lid. She pops the cap and taps out a little white pill into the palm of her hand. Grabbing a bottle of water from beside the computer she swallows the pain medication down. She rubs her back, the spot where the knife went in and tries to calm herself down.

Her phone starts to ring and she grabs it eagerly. "Alec! It's been hours. Has he picked up the money?" She listens intently, her grip too tight on the phone. Her expression turns to panic and her hand starts shaking slightly. "What do you mean he's dead?"

_Interrogation Room. _

"Doctor Lightman," a man in the grey camouflage of the Navy enters the room and closes the door behind him abruptly.

"That's me," Cal answers though not with any signs of arrogance. He can't tell this man's rank because the symbol is blended in with the pattern of disguise.

The man takes a seat, places a folder on the table top in front of him. Careful, controlled and calm movements. "Care to tell me what you were doing in a restricted area of a military facility, without the proper clearance or an escort?"

"Well I was on my way to the little boy's room," Cal starts conversationally and he is a million times relaxed, because he realises this is not at all what it seems. "And I might have got a wee bit lost."

"You have friends in high places Doctor Lightman," the man notes, clasping his hands together, as he leans forward on his arms slightly.

"When they feel like it," Cal answers drolly.

The man studies him for a moment, taking in his bruised face and bleeding nose. "You see the thing is, the Marines on that floor take a lot of pride in their security detail. And you pissed all over it."

"Please apologise on my behalf."

The man gives a very slight smile and Cal relaxes more. He knows he's going to be all right. The United States Navy isn't really mad at him. He's got away with this one this time and he was lucky to. This situation could have been a whole lot worse.

"Well I ran your name through the system and a lot of names popped. They've informed me you're a valuable asset and I should politely let you go."

_Great Dismal Swamp. Private Road. Afternoon._

Gillian pulls up at the cabin. She sits up in her seat to look around as she brings Cal's car to a halt. There are no new tread marks in the snow, no indications that someone else has been there. She fumbles her seatbelt and runs through the snow, slipping slightly and throwing her arms out wide in a funny manoeuvre to keep her balance. She wrenches the cabin door open and a rat darts away from the sudden invasion of its home. The black bag is still on the table. Gillian's shoes thud heavily over the floorboards as she approaches. She pulls the zipper open and stacks of a hundred dollar bills stare back up at her unperturbed.

Gillian stands and stares at the money for a moment. Her breath is heavy in the engulfing silence. She looks around, as if someone is going to step out of the shadows and tell her what to do next. She sniffs slightly and then zips the bag up again, taking it with her this time when she leaves. She heads back to the motel. She bursts into her room and slams the door shut. There are tears in her eyes as she throws the bag under the table and fidgets with her phone. What to do next? What was she meant to do next?

She calls Alec back. "It's me."

"Gill, you can't keep calling me, I'm just the go between."

"Yeah and you're my only contact for this whole thing," she shoots back aggressively. "So what happens next? Are they going to release him?"

"I'm sorry to be unhelpful," and he sounds anything but. "But I don't actually know anything more. I made a call to a contact. He said he could help. He named his price. I'm just passing messages back and forth. Now that he's out of the equation..." he sighs. "You might just have to consider that it's over."


	6. Chapter 6

**Act**** Five**

Gillian is on the phone again, this time in barely controlled tears as she paces around the motel room. Her hands are shaking and she is on the verge of having an actual meltdown. She's trapped. "No I need you to get me the number right now Loker. Alec's contact just died in a car accident. The deal I struck for Cal's release is not going to go through without him signing that order." She pulls the phone away as she suppresses a sob and takes the time to also get a grip. She takes a steadying breath. "Loker. Get me the number. Call me back as soon as you do," and she hangs up on him.

Gillian crosses to the window again. She looks out. The feeling of being watched has not followed her from the clearing and yet she feels compelled to look out as if she can spot someone there. She runs her hand around the back of her neck. Her phone rings, startling her for the millionth time in just twenty-four hours.

_The back of a truck. Evening._

Cal has a black cloth bag over his head as he is jostled from the movement of the vehicle.

"We're not going to have any more trouble are we?" A male voice asks him.

Cal shakes his head emphatically.

"Good."

The vehicle stops suddenly and he is kicked unceremoniously out of the back. He falls heavily onto the ground, striking his head against what feels like gravel. Then cold. Wet. He has been delivered to the snow. Cal shifts but his hands are still tied behind his back. And then different hands and a scared voice.

"Cal? Are you ok?"

The bag is pulled from his head and he is blinded by the sudden brightness of sun, snow and saviour. Her cool fingers work the gag out of his mouth. She's cradling his head against her thighs as she kneels in the snow on the side of a quiet road. "Cal?" She asks again, her voice tight with concern and fear.

"Yeah," Cal finally comes to his senses.

"Cal?"

"Yeah, I'm here," he starts to struggle upright.

"Can you walk?"

"Yeah," he gets up slowly. She has to help him with his hands bound by a plastic tie. He leans on Gillian heavily as they move slowly. "Let's get out of here."

_Palm Motel. Late evening._

The door to the motel opens suddenly and Cal staggers in with Gillian close behind him. She tries to help him but he uses the wall and furniture to reach and then fall onto the bed heavily.

"Are you hurt?" Gillian stands over him.

Cal opens his eyes to look up at her. "Only my pride darling." He can see she wants answers, he can see her winding up to voice them and so he cuts her off first. "Are you all right?"

"Of course I'm all right," she responds sitting next to his legs gingerly. Her hand reaches out towards him slightly, hovers over his chest and then hesitates. He lets her in a little more these days but she's still not sure of the limits. To preserve herself, she settles the hand neutrally on his wrist.

"I mean, they didn't detain you too?" Cal is concerned.

"No," Gillian gives a slight shake of her head.

Cal looks relieved and gives a little groan, "Good."

"I should take you to a hospital."

"Nah I'm all right," Cal dismisses easily.

"Do you know who they were? They weren't Navy." It wasn't so much a question but a statement.

"Nah. Marines. Some pissed off Marines," Cal winces and he can suddenly feel his headache coming back. He raises a hand to his head.

"You could have a concussion." She's concerned again but the one time Cal really wants for her to fuss over him, she doesn't.

"I've been asleep and awake. The room isn't spinning. I know what day it is. There's only one of you sitting there." Cal's face frowns. "It's only been twenty-four hours right?"

"Yes," Gillian purses her lips, which means she doesn't entirely agree with him, even if she isn't going to argue. She looks away. "I'm sorry I got you into this mess."

"What?" Cal asks in disbelief. He tries to sit up and winces sharply.

Gillian gets to her feet again and moves towards his torso. "What is it? Your ribs? Do you think they're broken? Should I even bother requesting you see a doctor again?"

"I'll go in the morning," Cal answers her.

"What if your ribs are broken?"

"They're not."

"How do you know?"

"Cos I know what that feels like," Cal looks up at her impassively.

"Let me have a look," and she reaches for his shirt without asking him and pushes it up to see his abdomen.

"If you wanted a perv darling you should have just asked," he tells her with a confident grin.

Gillian purses her lips for a different reason this time and ignores his comment. His ribs are purple. "You look a mess."

"This is how I normally look."

Gillian walks away to the bathroom. Cal can hear her running the tap. He runs his fingers through his hair and then down over his scabbed nose. He probably does look a mess. He attempts to finger comb his hair some more while he waits for her to reappear.

She sits near his chest. "Here."

"You do it. I'm not up for standing in front of the mirror."

She looks surprised again but shifts so she can reach over him. She takes his jaw gently in one hand and uses the cloth to wipe the blood from his skin.

"Now what is this nonsense about you dragging me into this?"

"I pushed for us to take this case further."

"And I was the one who decided to slip the guard dog and make a run for the house."

Gillian gives the faintest ghost of a smile, to spite Cal's wide grin. She's not convinced. She re-folds the cloth and works on Cal's neck. He tilts his head back to accommodate her and she tries not to think about all the other times she's wanted to do this and he wouldn't let her even get close. "Where did you go?" She dares to ask and expects to be rebuffed. Cal points up to the ceiling in answer. "You can't expect me to believe you got into heaven can you?" Gillian quips despite herself. It is always easier to pretend his distancing didn't hurt her.

Cal grins, "Not quite darling. The seventh floor. Now," he continues before she can cut in. "What have you been doing while I was gone?" He looks around the room at the laptop on the table and the sparse motel room. She has clearly stayed in the area for him and that makes him feel funny inside.

"Worrying about you," Gillian tells him.

"Aw now come on," Cal whines. "I might have been knocked about but even I can see that was a pitiful attempt!"

Gillian gives another wan smile, one she is trying to repress but can't. "I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours."

"Deal," Cal quickly agrees and she is immediately surprised. He never volunteers to tell her anything. "But first, I'm starving."

"Have you eaten at all in the last twenty four hours?"

Cal shakes his head. He's barely slept too and he's so exhausted he can't even lift his head off the mattress anymore. He just wants to lie there.

"I'll get something to eat."

"Perfect," Cal tells her gratefully. He watches her reach for his car keys and her phone. She hadn't even gotten to the point where she had taken her coat off and he was sending her away again. He watches her go with a thoughtful expression. Yes she had been worrying about him, but there was definitely something else there too.

When Gillian comes back to the motel with bags of Chinese, Cal is curled up on his side on the left of the bed and is asleep. Gillian closes the door carefully and puts the bags down. She gets her phone and connects a call. "I've got him," she says once it is picked up.

_Establishing shot. Palm Motel. Early morning._

Cal watches Gillian asleep against her pillow for a moment. She doesn't look particularly restful. She sleeps with tension. Interesting. "Gill," Cal gives her a gentle shake.

She blinks awake and sits up slightly. She is under the covers but fully dressed and she seems surprised to see him up. "You should rest," she sounds annoyed.

"Care to explain what the half million is for?" Cal shoots back. He's showered but is back in his dirty clothes.

Gillian looks over to the table where the black duffle bag is open. Her face clouds slightly. "It's a long story."

"Great. So tell me about it."

Gillian moves to sit up. Cal seats himself no more than a foot away from her lap. "We've got time now."

"You should call Emily," Gillian counters.

"Done already. Thanks for letting her know I had taken a day trip out of town only to get stuck with the weather and the case. And making sure she went to stay at a friend's."

Gillian focuses on her lap.

"Gill," Cal speaks gently. "What are you trying to hide luv? What's the money for?"

"A trade off for your freedom."

Cal gives her a surprised expression. "A what?"

"I waited to hear from you and nothing," she throws back the covers with a slight huff of irritation. "So I called Alec."

Cal chokes slightly and winces as his ribs protest. "You did what?"

"He knows people Cal," Gillian explains as she stalks around the room.

"I know he does," Cal watches her move around. "Some very _special_ people."

"Not _those_ kinds of people," Gillian tells him sharply. "He has contacts at the Pentagon. He made some calls for me."

"And he found you a dodgy Admiral willing to take something on the side in return for my freedom?"

"A Captain," Gillian corrects. "But yes."

"You made phone calls to your ex on my behalf and then entertained the idea of make an illegal bribe to a military officer?" Cal sounds surprised and a little accusatory.

"Yes," Gillian answers in a small voice. She's having a hard time meeting his gaze. She sits to put her shoes on.

"You did that for me?"

"Well I didn't do it for the little green men," Gillian quips dryly in a desperate need to dampen some of the heat she can feel in her cheeks. She feels so incredibly foolish. All her panic and worry and fretting had been for nothing.

Cal gives a slight smile to the wall, his head turned away so she can't see. He's amazed. "You could have got into some serious trouble," he tells her quietly.

"Well if you're not going to be around... someone has to do it," she sounds snide now.

Cal turns around on the bed to face her. "That's a lot of money to carry around," he adds. "Where did you get it?"

"From the company," Gillian admits. Why the hell not? She's told him everything else.

Cal nods, somewhat relieved; better than from Alec's _special_ friends. "Borrowing from our business to make an illegal bribe..."

Gillian rolls her eyes severely, sure she is being mocked.

"You _have_ been busy." His tone is not mocking in the least. In fact, he sounds impressed.

Gillian finishes fidgeting with her shoes. She watches Cal and he watches her for a moment. "Loker did some research," she speaks to keep the silence from blanketing her. "I get the impression this goes beyond the Navy."

"So do I luv," Cal plays along. "They're probably being used without even knowing it. Talking about the crash thing, of course."

"But I can't prove anything. It's all just guesses and leaps."

"Sounds like a normal day at the office," Cal gives her a slight smile, as if he's trying to encourage her to do the same.

"You would have done so much more if it were me," Gillian gets up and crosses to her purse.

"If you were me, you wouldn't have gone to get yourself into trouble," Cal adds gently.

"And you wouldn't have gone to get into trouble if I hadn't pushed you to look into what Edison said," she shoots at him over her shoulder, still avoiding looking at him directly. It's hard to tell who she's mad at; him or herself. "He's untraceable by the way."

"Which means either he was sent as a diversion."

"A failed diversion."

"Or he's been silenced," Cal finishes.

"That's what I thought," Gillian says quietly as she finds the little bottle of pain medication amongst her things. "I was just trying to make sure you came back, not jeopardise you or our business."

Cal gets up slowly and makes his way across the room to where she's standing. He can see her hands are shaking slightly as she attempts to tap out a white tablet. He takes her hand in his. "I'm so very glad you did," he tells her gently. "The thing with me. That was just run of the mill me getting into trouble."

"I didn't know that! I was really scared Cal. I had no idea if they were going to let you go or not and I didn't know what to do," there's a flash of tears in her eyes. She pulls her hand free. "You really scare me when you do things like that, just take off."

"I'm sorry," Cal brings a hand to brush fingers against her cheek. They stare at each other for a moment. She's just given him a massive demonstration in her loyalty and vulnerability; and all of a sudden they're both aware of it.

Gillian can feel her lungs working overtime; something it has never taken Cal's presence much to achieve, even less now that she was missing part of them. She puts it down be being upset.

Cal is looking at her in wonderment and when she looks up to see his reaction, it makes her feel a little uncomfortable. He reaches out and tucks a stray section of her hair back behind her ear.

"Except it didn't work," she adds with a strained voice; the anger or fear has not gone.

"It did. I'm here," Cal answers simply. He doesn't look away and it's like his eyes are caressing her right now while his hand is still on her shoulder. She's pissed off and for once he's being the calm reasonable one. It's amazing how their roles have reversed. It's amazing how they're both reflected in a different light.

"He died before he took the money from the drop point," Gillian continues to lay out her argument, that really, at the end of the day, she's done nothing in this whole mess but pace and fret. She feels so woefully insignificant; Cal has always had a way of making her feel that way.

"How did you end up with it then?"

"I went back to get it."

Cal breaks into a grin. "You're fantastic you know that?"

Gillian gives an embarrassed smile. His hand is gentle with her, like she is a fairy tale character, an illusion that might break. But there's something else in his demeanour, a reverence, respect, awe. "Half a million? Really? Is that all I'm worth?"

"That's what he asked for. Easier to get, easier to hide."

Cal nods his agreement.

"You know you're worth more than that to me."

Cal's smile becomes warm, his eyes are glowing in such an enticing way. He leans towards her slowly, but purposefully. Gillian gives him a frown and a little shove to force him to step back, "You think kissing me is just going to make it better? You think it changes what happened or how I feel? I was worried sick Cal. I didn't know where you were or what was going on!"

Cal looks confused and then contrite. "I said I was sorry."

Gillian gives a sigh in response. Cal blinks to himself, not sure what to do or say next. They had been making progress, getting closer... and now. Had he reversed all of that so easily?

"All that happened two months ago. Have you forgotten all of that?"

"Of course I haven't," Cal tells her gruffly.

"I haven't either," Gillian urges. "I haven't forgotten what it was like thinking I was going to die in my bedroom without ever..." she stops abruptly. She takes a deep breath. She doesn't look at Cal but she is aware that he's watching her intently. "You know I can't keep doing this," and she says it in a way that leaves no room for argument. She's telling him, not reminding him, but telling him something he already knows.

"I know," Cal agrees quietly.

"Let's go home ok?" Gillian tells him, purposefully lightening her tone. She raises her chin, daring him to not let her change the subject.

"Yeah all right," Cal agrees and looks slightly confused. He watches her finish taking her medication, standing there, a little defeated.

Gillian screws the lid back on the water bottle and turns to him again. She reaches out and traces her fingers along his jaw. They're not standing that far apart. Neither of them has moved. In her heels, Gillian is the same height. Cal can look her in the eye easily. She gives him a softer smile. "I get scared."

"I know," Cal says as if this time, he really does get it. He turns his head to kiss her palm and holds her eye and wills her to know that he's sorry, that this time it is different.

Gillian gives a small smile. "Is that all I get for attempting to save your ass Doctor Lightman?"

Cal's lips twitch into a smirk. "Of course not."


End file.
